


Re-Meet Cute

by Rina (rinadoll)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Friends to Lovers, Post-Hogwarts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-22
Updated: 2015-08-22
Packaged: 2018-04-14 22:27:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4582449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rinadoll/pseuds/Rina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Who would have thought an apparation gone awry would turn out so well?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Re-Meet Cute

**Author's Note:**

  * For [csichick_2](https://archiveofourown.org/users/csichick_2/gifts).



\--May 2003--

CRASH

One moment Hermione was planning out the best way to get to the new jogging path she wanted to try, the next she was landing in an undignified heap on her concrete walkway, under a spate of cardboard boxes.

Luckily, the boxes were hovering over her, not slamming on top of her.

“I’m so sorry!” The man sounded frantic. “Are you okay? Can I help you?”

Hermione slowly opened her eyes and let her arms fall from where they’d flown up to protect her face and head. Was she fine? Her knee ached, her elbow stung and she felt buzzy with shock, but other than that… “I’m fine,” she said, wiggling her way out from under the boxes and sitting up. 

“I’m so sorry,” the man repeated. Hermione tilted her head back - he was tall, especially from the angle, muscular and scruffy. Handsome, if you liked that sort of thing. He also looked really worried - and a little familiar. “I didn’t see you.”

“I didn’t see you, either,” Hermione said, inspecting her knee. She was a little scraped up and she debated trying to clean herself up here or head back in for a more thorough job. 

“I apparated over from my car,” he said sheepishly, pointing down the street. “I know it wasn’t smart, I just wanted to be done moving. Please let me help you up?”

Hermione accepted his hand and he hauled her to her feet. Her knee smarted and she realized her run was going to have to be put off. “You need to be careful about spells,” she scolded as she dug for her keys. “Not everyone who lives here is a witch or wizard, you know.”

“Right,” the man said. “Oh!” The boxes fell to the ground with a gentle thump. “Floating boxes outside the windows, probably a bad idea.”

“Along with the apparating,” Hermione agreed, turning back towards her flat. “I need to get cleaned up, good luck with your move.”

“Thanks,” the man said. “Hey, maybe when I’ve got my place sorted, we can go out? I’ve heard good things about Melyn Broomsticks. And, um, I’d like to make this up to you.”

Hermione raised her eyebrow, taken aback. She’d not been asked out in a very long time, and was surprised to feel her stomach start to flutter. “I don’t know,” she said, opening her door, one down from where she’d fallen. “I don’t think you need to do that, but thanks.”

She shut the door behind her and headed for her bathroom. He really was handsome, she mused. And he was very polite. With any luck, he’d be a good neighbor.

Something about his face niggled at her memory, but she couldn’t place him. He must have been at Hogwarts around the time she’d been, though. 

She cleaned up her scrapes, adding a plaster to her elbow, and stretched out. Her knee still ached, just a bit, but she thought she could at least jog over to a farmers market to do some shopping and get her day back on track.

Which turned out to be a good decision, when she ran into Ginny. 

“Did you hear about Neville?” Ginny asked, inspecting some veg. 

Hermione shook her head, leaning against the stand as she stretched her legs. “What happened?”

“He left the Aurors,” Ginny said. “It’s this big upset. You know his grandmother died, right? Just came the day after the funeral and said he was done, and that was that.”

“Oh,” Hermione said, surprised. “That seems unlike him, doesn’t it? But it’s been ages since I saw him. What is he doing now then?”

“Dunno,” Ginny said. “I haven’t seen him, but I guess he’s making a lot of changes right now. He asked Harry for suggestions on flats, and Harry told him about your place, how it was such a nice mix of magical and muggle.”

Hermione froze. That man had looked familiar - add some weight, subtract several inches, maybe something with his teeth? Different hair? It slid into place and she felt uncharacteristically stupid. 

“I’ve just remembered, I need to stop and pick up a book for work,” she said, hoping she didn’t look as warm as she felt. “Let’s do dinner soon.”

“Sounds good,” Ginny said. “If you see Neville, tell him I said hi.”

“Will do,” Hermione said and dashed off. 

***

She was tempted to pretend the morning never happened, but knew that wasn’t the proper thing to do. Instead, she stopped by a supermarket, spent the afternoon putting together her mother’s shepherd pie and a pudding and knocked on the next door right at 6pm.

“Hermione,” he said, surprised, and she saw it. He was taller, enough that she had to look up to him now, and had slimmed down quite a lot while building muscle. His hair was longer and he was very brown. But his eyes - they were still vibrantly green, a little unsure, and very kind.

“I’m terribly sorry about this morning, Neville,” she said. “I think I was a bit rude, and I didn’t mean to be, honestly. Welcome to the block.” She held out the dishes in offering. 

“You were fine,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m the one who created the inadvertent barricade. But thank you, I was basically going to be eating crackers.” He smiled as he reached out for the dishes and Hermione couldn’t help smiling back.

“First nights are rough,” she agreed. “I had takeaway for my whole first week.” She hesitated, wondering if she should explain her earlier response to him, and the extended pause grew awkward. 

“Do you want to come in?” Neville asked, just as she was about to make her excuses instead. 

“I-” she started, and he rushed on, “You don’t have to, of course. But it’d be nice to catch up sometime, maybe.” He scrubbed his free hand over his hair.

“If you don’t mind the company,” Hermione said, surprising herself. He did look like he needed a friend. 

They settled into Neville’s lounge and spread out on a blanket. Hermione had included place settings, so it didn’t take long to start their picnic, but their small talk made her feel ridiculous. They’d been such good friends, and this felt so forced. She wished she knew how to fix it.

“I haven’t seen you around the Ministry at all, I don’t think,” she said, not mentioning that she wouldn’t have recognized him if she had. “Isn’t that odd?”

Neville poked at his food. “A bit, I guess. A lot of our work was outside the Ministry, of course. And I usually did my paperwork at home and filed via owl. So I suppose I was around less than the others.”

“From home?” Hermione asked. “That’s unusual, how did you manage that?”

“It just worked out that way,” Neville said. “And now I’ve left, I’m sure you heard, so I’m definitely around less than the others.” He looked up with a grin. “I suppose you spend more time there than anyone.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Hermione said. He raised his eyebrow and smirked at her. “Well, maybe. A bit. Not, you know, loads more.” She laughed, blushing. “Not as much as Percy.” It wasn’t an uncommon tease, even still.

Neville laughed at her. “I hope that’s not the best you can say.”

“I’m better at balancing work than I was as a child, how’s that?”

“Mmm, better,” he said, smiling. 

“I still like work and research, but my boss makes me leave work.” Hermione grinned fondly. “She says it makes her look bad if I’m there more than she is. For the first year, she made me report what I was doing in my off time.”

“What, really?” he asked, confused. “Is that...why?”

“Because she wanted to make sure I understood to leave work at work,” Hermione explained. “It’s too easy to get burned out with advocacy work. She didn’t care if I said I sat on the couch thinking about work as long as I didn’t do any of it. Which happened sometimes. But that got boring, so I did manage to pick up unrelated hobbies and other things I enjoy. I did not like her at first, but now I understand.”

“I can’t decide if she sounds like a good manager or not,” Neville said, considering. “I mean, that makes sense, but also frustrating.”

“She’s unorthodox, but good,” she said. “It all worked out. And we do good work for magical creatures, I want to be my best for them.”

Hermione relaxed as conversation flowed better from there, the unnatural stiffness disappearing as they finished eating and Hermione started to help him unpack. It wasn’t until she saw Neville try to hide a yawn that she noticed it was half ten. 

“Oh, I should get out of your way,” she apologized, closing up the box she’d just opened. “You’ve had a long day, I didn’t mean to overstay like this.”

“I was glad for the company,” Neville said. “Don’t be a stranger, yeah?”

Hermione reached past him and knocked on the wall that separated their flats. “I wouldn’t worry about that,” she said, grinning. “Surely we’ll see each other often now.”

***

That said, she wasn’t expecting to see him the next evening at her door. His returning her dishes led to an hour long chat that set her Sunday cooking routine into tatters - she was surprised to find she didn’t mind. 

By the following weekend, they’d spent three other evenings together eating and arranging Neville’s rooms. But then, to Hermione’s disappointment, he stopped coming over. She thought about knocking on his door a few times after work, but decided he might need the space to create new routines in his new place. After so many evenings with company, it was distracting to have empty nights again.

Which is why she jumped to answer a knock at the door the following Saturday.

Neville held up a steaming bag of take away. “I’m going mad over there. Share a curry?”

Hermione smiled at him. “Gladly.”

He followed her into the kitchen as she pulled out plates. “What have you been up to?” she asked.

“Nothing, really,” he said, dishing out the food. “Which is the problem. I haven’t had nothing to do - ever, actually. I thought it would be nice, but it’s really not.”

Hermione glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. He had dodged all questions related to work before, but... “Are you looking for a job?”

He winced. “Not yet. I don’t know what I want to do.” He handed her a plate. “Picnic?”

“Sure.” They settled in leaning against her sofa, Neville stretching his long legs under the coffee table. The quiet as they tucked in felt comfortable and Hermione let it stretch on.

“I don’t regret quitting, but I think I ought to have had a plan first,” Neville said suddenly. 

“Why did you leave?” Hermione asked.

“Well, you know I lived with my Gran, yeah?” At her nod, he continued, “It was important to her that I carry on with Mum and Dad’s work, and after that last year, I thought I could do it. I even wanted to, a little bit, to see everything through. I didn’t know how to stop fighting, so I joined up. Then she had a stroke about six months later, did you know that?” 

“I didn’t, I’m sorry,” Hermione said, frowning. “What did you do?”

“I moved back in and took care of her. Great-Uncle Algie couldn’t, of course. It didn’t take long for me to realize that I didn’t really like the job at all, that there were other ways I could contribute to the cause.” He sighed. “But it really meant a lot to her, and she didn’t have much to hold on to. I wanted to help, so I thought I might as well help everyone at once. That’s why I would do paperwork from home instead of the Ministry, so I could take care of her and she could see what I was doing. Help sometimes, too, until she started needing even more care.”

“For five years?” Hermione asked. “How did you not burn out?”

“Who says I didn’t?” he said, shaking his head. “I probably could have used a boss like yours, though Gran wouldn’t have put up with regular hours. But when she, uh, when I saw that she’d left me the house and, honestly, more money than I thought she had, I didn’t even think of doing anything but quitting. I have enough to take off for least six months and figure out what I want, but I didn’t think I’d be bored, of all things.”

“What have you been doing since you left?” Hermione asked.

“Cleaning out the house, mostly. Paperwork. Moving. And now that’s all done.” He frowned down at his plate. 

“So you don’t need a job, you just need something to do? For now, at least?” Hermione asked, feeling herself move into problem solving mode.

He shrugged. “Sounds about right, I guess.”

“You could work part time with me in R&C,” she offered. “Or, well, volunteer, maybe. Or at St. Mungo’s? They’re always looking for volunteers and they know--”

“Uh, I don’t think so,” he said quickly. “I mean, I don’t mind volunteering. But I need--I don’t think I want a magical job right now. You know?”

“No, of course,” Hermione said, mentally smacking herself. Of course he didn’t. “I--oh! Do you know the garden centre in Tenby street?”

“I don’t think so,” he said. “I’ve wandered around a lot this week, but I don’t think I saw it.”

“I run past it sometimes,” she said, getting excited. “It’s maybe half a mile away, and they were looking for workers last time. It’s muggle, and you’re good with plants. Are you still good with plants?”

“Yeah,” he said slowly. “I am.”

She clapped her hands. “Then let’s get you hired.”

***

She helped him fill out the application Monday night, and by Wednesday, he had the job. They celebrated with a dinner out that quickly turned into a weekly dinner date.

As summer went on, he started joining her on at least one run a week. Neville seemed happier and more relaxed with his new schedule, though some nights were hard. A piece of music would remind him of his Gran, or he’d just be blue, but Hermione never let him grieve alone. Evenings were so much better with him around and she was glad when their weekly dinners turned into twice weekly. 

“Are you two joined at the hip then or something?” Ginny asked, sounding amused as they browsed the grocer’s. “All summer long, it’s been Neville and I this, Neville and I that.”

“We’re neighbors,” Hermione reminded her. “It makes sense to spend time together.”

“I don’t even know my neighbor’s name,” Ginny pointed out.

“You travel for work,” Hermione said, dismissively.

“Who lives on the other side of you again?”

Hermione hesitated, but Ginny’s smirk was too much to bear. “Mrs. Carter,” she improvised. It was something like that, anyway, she was almost sure of it. 

“I’m just saying. It’s a lot of time,” Ginny said, grinning. “I think it may be more than you spent with me, and we lived together.”

“I enjoy his company,” Hermione said tartly and Ginny laughed. “And he really needs a friend right now. He’s been through a lot and could use some support.”

Ginny sobered. “True.” She sighed.”I can’t argue with that. Harry was quite worried about him, especially when he just stopped coming around or seeing anyone. I’m glad he found you.” She raised an eyebrow. “But really, just a friend? I’m just saying, I’ve seen what the Auror job did for him.”

Hermione was saved from answering when Harry came up behind Ginny and slung his arm around her. 

“Hermione, brilliant! Are you coming out with us tonight?” he asked.

Hermione looked at Ginny, confused.

“They’re going to show the Cannons game at the Three Swans,” Ginny explained. “We’re meeting Ron there, and it’s been ages since you came out with us.”

“Bring Neville,” Harry said. “We miss him, it’s not the same at work now.”

“Sounds fun,” Hermione said. “I don’t know what Neville has planned,” she said, pointedly, and Ginny rolled her eyes. “But we might make it.”

Harry and Ginny headed off, and Hermione pushed through the rest of her shopping list. 

Neville was handsome, she’d never deny it. And he had quickly become her favorite person to spend time with - the nights he worked dragged on, even if she was doing most of the same things she did when he was around. But Ginny was off-base. The last thing he needed was someone crushing on him while he did the hard work of figuring out his future. They were friends, good friends. And Ginny’d see that tonight at the pub.

***

Except Neville refused to go.

He didn’t phrase it quite that baldly, but Hermione could tell. He claimed to have other plans, but he’d stopped by to see what her plans were, so she questioned that. She tried to press it a little, but backed off when he shut her down. 

She went, because Ginny was right that she hadn’t been out with them all summer and she did love their nights out. She refused to agree with Ron that she was mopey, but the night was missing something. 

She had a feeling she hadn’t convinced Ginny of anything.

***

Neville came over for their regular dinner the next night, and shrugged off Hermione’s questions about his evening out.

“Everyone sends their love, of course,” Hermione said, spinning pasta on her fork. “I think Ron was crushed you weren’t there to see the Cannons win.”

“I’m sure I’ll have another opportunity,” Neville said. “They’re bound to win again sometime in the next decade, yeah?”

Hermione snorted. “If he’s lucky. That poor team. Ron’s poor liver. He celebrated well.”

Neville laughed. “He deserves it, it happens so rarely.”

“Mmm, but he and Harry passed on the best news,” Hermione said, sitting up straighter. “It’s very last minute, but Professor Sprout is hiring on an assistant Herbology professor. Isn’t that exciting? She wants to have a replacement set before she’ll agree to retire, I think.”

“Good for her,” Neville said. “She was my favorite professor.”

“Right, which is why I bet you’d be a shoo-in for it,” Hermione said, excited. “I mean, it’s perfect for you, isn’t it?”

“No,” Neville snapped, and Hermione startled at his harsh tone. “Why on earth would you think that?”

“Well, I--it was your favorite class, and you were so good at helping anyone who needed it,” she said, frowning. “And you liked working with her. I thought it would be a good fit for you.”

“I have a job,” he said brusquely. “It’s a good one, too, whatever you may think of it.”

“I know it’s a good job,” Hermione said, setting down her fork. “Neville, I don’t understand. If you don’t want to be a teacher, fine, but I thought you wanted to find something more permanent. Don’t you?”

He stabbed at his pasta, and Hermione noticed his hand was shaking. “I don’t want to be a teacher,” he said, finally. 

“All right,” Hermione said, frowning. “I won’t mention it again.”

He nodded, draining his mead. The silence felt heavy and though he’d refilled his glass, he wasn’t eating much. He looked so lost and it took everything she had not to give him a hug. She wasn’t sure how he’d respond right then. 

He stood suddenly, mostly full plate in hand. “I’ll clean up.”

“Neville, please,” Hermione said helplessly. “What’s the matter? Please tell me, I feel awful that I upset you.”

“You didn’t,” he said, but his tone was short and not at all reassuring. 

“I don’t believe you,” she said, and held up her hands when he started to protest. “But I’d like to help. Even if it wasn’t me, even if it’s something else entirely, I’d like to help you.”

“It’s fine,” he said, whisking plates towards the sink.

Hermione let him clean up but stopped him when he tried to leave.

“Won’t you please talk to me about it?” she asked. “Nev, I’m worried about you.” She noticed that he tensed up at that. “Or we could just listen to the wireless? Play chess? It’s just, I like having you here, you know.” Her face flushed a little at the admission. “I don’t want you to feel like you need to escape me.”

“I like being here, too,” he said, running his hand through his hair. 

“Good. Then you’ll stay,” she said, firmly. 

He hesitated, but shrugged. “All right.” His smirk was a ghost of its usual self, but she’d take it. “Not like I had any other place to be.”

“Flatterer,” she teased, relieved. “Thank you for that.”

“Any time,” he said, fetching their drinks while she set up the Wizard’s Chess board Ron and Harry had given her years back.

She still wasn’t a fan of the violence, but her skills had improved and their game was evenly matched.

“You had to play a life size game of this, didn’t you?” Neville asked, studying the board.

“First year,” Hermione said. “It was horrible.”

“The Wizarding world was never very nice to you,” he said, directing his move.

“It was rough going sometimes,” she agreed. “It wasn’t very nice to you, either, though, was it?” 

He laughed shortly. “Not really, no.” Her next move knocked out a rook and he huffed a sigh as her piece cheered. “Life sized, that. In a battle at age eleven. Didn’t you have nightmares?”

“Still do,” she admitted. “A lot of it from back then feels like a bad dream, probably because it’s been that for so many years.”

“How did you do it?” he asked, quietly. “How did you go back there to do your final year and not see it everywhere you looked? Our classmates dying around you?” He shook his head. “I saw it in my head every day, and I wasn’t even seeing the places where it happened.”

Hermione muted the chess pieces, considering. “It was the hardest thing I ever did,” she said finally. “I read books about trauma and recovery, Ginny and I both did. We had to work to make it okay, and we had bad days all year long. But it was part of the healing process for us.”

“I couldn’t do it,” he said, shaking his head. “I still can’t. I haven’t been back, and I don’t want to.”

“Hogwarts was the first time I felt like I belonged somewhere,” Hermione explained. “I wanted very badly to get that back and make it mine again. Not everyone needed that.”

“It’s just one more way I’m not brave enough,” he said, sagging back against his chair and looking miserable. “I’m sorry I took it out on you. You’ve put up with me all summer and--”

“Excuse me?” Hermione said, stung. “What do you mean, put up with you? And of course you’re brave. You do things all the time that I could never.”

“I hardly believe that,” Neville scoffed. “I can’t face Hogwarts, even for a job I’d love. I stayed in a job I didn’t like because I couldn’t face my Gran. I can’t even face Ron and Harry because of how I fled that damn job to haul plants in a garden centre. I could never compare to you, I’m not half good enough for you.”

“You are plenty good enough for me and everyone else,” Hermione said, hands flying to her hips. “You’re so good, you put everyone else’s needs before yours for so long. I could never be like you in a million years.” She ignored his snort. “And then to know when enough is enough and do what is best for you? I am so impressed with your bravery. I always have been. So don’t you go around saying silly things like I’m not good enough for you, is that clear?”

“That’s a lot of passion from someone who wouldn’t go out with me,” he said sarcastically. He must have have noticed the confusion on her face, because he added, “When I first moved in? I asked you out and you put me off.”

“I--oh, hell.” Her idiocy had come back to bite her, finally, and she rubbed her forehead as her frustration faded. “Neville, I’m sorry. That was my fault. I didn’t--well, you see, I didn’t recognize you when you moved in.”

“You--what?” he said, confused.

“You’ve _changed_ ,” she said, waving her hand at him. He must know that, right? “Physically. In many good ways,” she elaborated, flushing. “I mean, you’re so much taller and more, well. I thought it was a--you know, a handsome stranger being a little forward.” 

His eyes widened in surprise. 

"I felt pretty stupid and didn’t want to admit it, so I cooked you dinner to make up for it,” she continued. “And I’m glad I did, you’ve made this summer so much better than it would have been otherwise.” She leaned forward and waited for him to meet her eyes. “I’ve never thought you weren’t good enough for me. Did I really make you think so? Because nothing is further from the truth.”

“It’s just--you’ve got everything figured out,” he said, shaking his head. “The past, your future, you have a career that means a lot to you. And here I am with nothing but a part-time job and a load of questions.”

“I like you with a part-time job and loads of questions,” Hermione said. “Just the same as I would if you had a full time job and everything figured out.” She spread her hands out. “I just like you, really.”

He just looked at her, and she felt herself warm with embarrassment again. “I mean, of course, I hope you knew that,” she faltered.

“I do, honestly,” he said, after a pause. “I wouldn’t trade this summer for anything, and I didn’t think you did it out of any obligations. I just--I feel all wrongfooted here. I’m sorry, you didn’t recognize me?” He laughed incredulously. “Hermione, that’s just mad.”

“It is!” she agreed, laughing with him and glad to see him calming. “I know, believe me. I felt awful. And ridiculous.” 

“Does--it’s okay if I’m wrong about this,” he said. “I mean that. But if I were to ask you out again, this time with you knowing who I am?”

Hermione’s mouth went dry. “I wouldn’t turn you down,” she said, the answer suddenly clear to her. She wanted to go on a date with him. She wanted the chance to be in a relationship with him. And it was just as clear that the feelings had always been there, despite herself.

“All right,” he said, nodding.

“All right?” she echoed. 

“I think I might have been wrong about a lot of things this summer,” he said. “This is a lot to think about.” He smiled apologetically and Hermione’s heart fell. 

“Of course,” she said. “Do you--we can pick up the game next time, if you like?”

“I’d like that,” he said, standing. She stood to follow him, but he’d only gone a few steps before he turned around. “Do you still have any of those books you and Ginny read?”

She nodded. “Yes, a few,” she said, summoning them over for him. 

“Thanks.” A few more steps and he turned around again, right in her space. “Could I kiss you, do you think?”

“Yes,” she said, and stretched to meet his lips. Hermione had never been one for buying the idea of feeling sparks from a kiss, but this was a pretty good argument for it. He skimmed his tongue over her lips and she opened them without hesitation.

She braced herself against his upper arms, pressing herself closer to him as he leaned down and cupped her jaw. Still, the height difference was stark and she wasn’t ready for the kiss to end.

“Sofa, please,” she said, pulling just far enough away to murmur the request against his lips, and pushing him back the few steps.

“Wait, wait,” Neville said breathlessly as he landed, Hermione next to him. “I think we’re doing this out of order.”

“I’m not complaining,” she said, resting her hand on his chest and pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. 

“I’m not either,” he said, stroking her hair before shifting back, taking her hands and kissing them. “I just--can I take you out for dinner tomorrow?” 

She leaned back, looking at him all mussed and nervous and, frankly, adorable. “Yes, _of course_ ,” she said, smiling, and he beamed back at her. She tugged him close again and kissed him properly. 

It felt just right.

***  
\--July 2006--

“Mr. Longbottom,  
I am very pleased to offer you the position as Assistant Professor of Herbology at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please advise if you and Miss Granger will require housing on campus…”


End file.
